


Solstice

by glorious_spoon



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the logic of Christmas lights is discussed. Just a bit of early TOS-era fluff for <a href="http://ksadvent.livejournal.com/">K/S Advent 2015</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice

“Fascinating,” Spock observed, adjusting his woolly cap so that it more fully covered his ears. Here in California, the midwinter air was just a few degrees shy of balmy to Jim’s Midwestern sensibilities, but Spock was bundled up in several layers of warm clothing and still looked uncomfortable. His exposed cheeks were flushed green with the cold.  
  
He had yet to point out the illogic of walking when a shuttle ride would be both warmer and more convenient, though, so Jim was willing to count this as a win. He tucked his fingers in his pockets, smiling into the cool, salt-smelling breeze coming in off the ocean. There were ships out in the blackness of the water, floating lights--the remnants of a simpler age that still lingered. In the sky above, satellites were visible in low orbit. The festivities would not start for some time yet, and the streets around them were quiet. “What’s fascinating?”  
  
“That a profoundly illogical ceremonial observance from an archaic religion should still be celebrated in this day and age.”  
  
“Mr. Spock,” Jim said, striving for seriousness but not quite managing it. “Are you calling Christmas illogical?”  
  
“All historical evidence suggests that the individual known as Yeshua ben Yosef was born in springtime. What you call ‘Christmas’ is an amalgamation of numerous different mythological traditions from virtually every corner of your planet, most notably the Roman festival of Sol Invictus as well as various pagan celebrations and early Nazarene rites. You are not one to cling to antiquated belief systems, Captain, and even if you were, your antecedents are Jewish.”  
  
Jim laughed. “Fair enough. You’re right. I don’t have much to do with old religious ceremonies, but I’ve always liked the lights. That’s why I wanted to walk--you can’t appreciate them properly from the other side of a shuttle window. I’m afraid I forgot how hard Vulcans take the cold.”  
  
“An illogical expenditure of energy,” Spock said, but he was looking at the strings of lights draped above the sidewalk like a starry curtain with no real disapproval. “They serve no practical purpose.”  
  
“On the contrary,” Jim said. “You of all people ought to be aware that today is the winter solstice--the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. In ancient times, people would huddle inside their walls, eating, drinking, and carousing through the night in the hopes that the sun would reappear. That they would not be left alone in the dark and the cold.” He shook his head. “What could be more logical, this time of year, than light?”  
  
Spock paused, still looking up. The sharp lines of his face seemed softened somehow, almost ethereal in the glimmering light. His hair, what was visible of it, was mussed from his hat, uncharacteristically disorderly. Jim’s fingers itched to touch it, to disarrange it further and see if it was as soft as it looked, but he restrained himself. It was a long time before Spock spoke, and when he did, his voice was softer. Contemplative. “Thank you, Jim.”  
  
“What for?” Jim asked, startled by the tone if not the words.  
  
“For an alternate perspective,” Spock said, and when he turned toward Jim he was smiling that faint smile that was mostly just around the eyes. Jim loved that smile, and had recently begun dedicating an embarrassing amount of effort to eliciting it wherever he could. Here and now, in the dim silence beneath strings of blue snowflake-shaped lights, it felt like an undeserved gift.  
  
He looked away, pleased, aware that he was blushing and grateful that the dim light hid it. “There’s a shuttle stop up ahead. We don’t need to walk the whole way if you’re uncomfortable.”  
  
“I am not.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“Unlike you, Captain, I have dressed appropriately for the weather.” Spock managed to sound both disapproving and fond as he eyed Jim’s loose flannel shirt, which he hadn’t even bothered to button all the way. “I believe further contemplation of the lights would be beneficial. Unless, of course, you are cold.”  
  
_You could keep me warm,_  Jim thought, but didn’t say. “Thank you, Spock. I’m quite comfortable.”  
  
“Very well,” Spock said dubiously, and began walking again. Jim fell into step beside him, closing the space between them until their shoulders were almost bumping. It would be easy, this close, to put an arm around Spock’s waist, to reach out and take his hand.  
  
He did neither, of course, but he did take some pleasure in the warmth of Spock’s skin, palpable even through his thick winter coat, in the faint, spicy smell of him, in the way that he made no effort to step away.  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.  
  
He looked up to see Spock watching him, something unexpectedly warm in his dark eyes. “Indeed,” he said quietly. “It is.”


End file.
